I swore that no daughter of mine would ever wear shoes like this:
The picture doesn’t do them full justice: they are Dora the Explorer sandals with pink hearts that light up when you walk. Just in case the silver lamé wasn’t eye-catching enough. To call them “tacky” might be the understatement of the millennium.
I had been wary of bringing Maggie to the shoe store, assuming a purchase like this could result. And so I went by myself, picked out three pairs of understated, non-character-branded shoes, and brought them home only to find out none of them fit. Daddy was home early with the boys, so Maggie and I headed back out to exchange them.
Our ostensible goal was to find her get cute little dressy shoes for her cousin’s First Communion today. But once Maggie saw these on the shelf, it was game over. “Dem not fit,” she said about each pair I put on her, shaking her head firmly. “Dem too small, and dem not going to fit, eeder.” She said all this with one eye on the neon Nickelodeon shoebox that containing these treasures.
And so I caved. “What about these?” I said, and Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. Yesterday she wore them while we dropped off her brothers at school, and I swear, she stopped traffic in the hallways so that everyone could ooh and aah over them. It was as if I had walked in wearing these:
…and while I think Alexander McQueen would have enjoyed the thought of a soccer mom wearing these to dropoff, I don’t have the guts. (Or the stiletto-walking skills). But Maggie was working it, turning her dainty little feet just so, so all the teachers could get a good look. She was absolutely thrilled with herself.
My husband managed to get a more tasteful pair of shoes on her for the First Communion today, but I imagine after today it will be all Dora, all the time, until they’re laughably small. Or it snows. But that’s okay. I
have to admit: they’re kind of cute in their over-the-top-ness. And she should be able to wear whatever the heck she wants. Remind me that I said that when she’s a teenager.